


"Pretty soon, luv, you won't to be able to live without me."

by willow redfern (persephone20)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Gags, Romance, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:37:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone20/pseuds/willow%20redfern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season 6, post 'Wrecked'. Will potentially become a big kick ass AU epic. We'll see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Buffy woke up. In the moment between that and raising a hand to wipe her eyes, she froze. Then relaxed. Sunlight from narrowly open blinds reflected in the mirror on the opposite side of the room. If Spike was here, he would be in the form of ash in the shape of a man. He had more self-preservation than that, if only just. Her sigh of relief was inhibited by the small amount of regret she felt. He'd never been just gone when they woke up before. That was the benefit of sleeping with each other in a collapsed house. Buffy couldn't even remember if there had been windows, or where they had been.

Getting up out of bed was a little bit of a trial. She was naked, of course. Her own reflected image stared back at her in her mirror, vivid scratch marks showing up despite her Slayer ability of a quick heal. She squared her shoulders, tossed her hair, and tried to pull that 'Buffy: Vampire Slayer: Officially in control of her world' expression. It wasn't convincing anyone today.

Steel entered her gaze as she sighed. "You can do this," she told herself. "You have to do this."

Funnily enough, the events of the night before didn't change any of the outcome that awaited her in the kitchen downstairs. Dawn was annoyed at Willow, but she had enough annoyance to go around.

"Xander will be here soon-" Buffy started.

"I know."

"Have you got everything-"

"Yeah."

"Lunch packed, breakfast-"

Cut off again, as Dawn turned knife-like eyes to face her. "I said _yeah_."

Buffy didn't have the spoons to deal with this this morning. She felt embarrassed at how relieved she felt when Xander made his way into the kitchen. Assessing the situation quickly, he took control of it. "Ready to get the Dawnster to school?" he asked of the tall 16 year old. For his trouble, he earned the first smile of Dawn's morning.

They left together, which left Willow and Buffy standing in the same room together; Buffy unable to meet Willow's eyes. If she just stared at this chopping board long enough, maybe she would be able to ensure Willow hadn't heard any of the noises coming from her room the night before.

At any other time, Will might have had some sort of a jokey retort to make of Buffy's obvious discomfort; something to coax her out of her shell. Instead, in a brief moment when Buffy looked up to see what Willow was doing, her friend looked already beaten by her own inner monologue and Buffy felt like a heel. Of course Willow wasn't thinking about Buffy's love life.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked cautiously.

Willow looked up, startled. "Worse. No, better, maybe." She looked like she had very mixed emotions about saying she felt better while Dawn might still be in the house. Moments later, the front door opened and closed. Willow looked even more despondent.

Buffy took one step towards her best friend. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, hesitantly.

Again, Willow seemed startled, but Buffy only thought of how terrible a friend she must have been up till now that Willow could be surprised, even with the stuff that had happened with Dawn. _I'll do better,_ she promised herself.

Willow shook her head. "I think I'm just going to lie down. Sorry, Buffy."

Buffy reached out, touching Willow's arm lightly. "Don't be sorry, okay?" she said, with that habitual mumble over the word 'okay'. The familiarity of it seemed to relax Willow, just a little. "You're already feeling bad enough for yourself. I don't want to be adding to that."

Willow stood a little straighter after that. The touch of a smile edged her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"I'll be down again later," she said, as Spike burst into the kitchen, startling them both.

Willow didn't stick around long enough to make some sort of light comment this time either. Without really acknowledging him, but without insulting him either, Willow turned around and exited the kitchen. Buffy turned to face Spike, who was wrestling his way out of his blanket and still trying to seem self-possessed. He hadn't stayed away long. Buffy was able to swallow the disappointment she'd felt that he'd actually left before the sun rose.

"Spike," she said, turning towards the sink and the morning's dishes.

"Buffy." She could hear wariness in his voice. He didn't know where he stood now, and she didn't either. Shouldn't one of them have had an idea? With her back turned to him, she closed her eyes in a wince.

Shuffling sounds from behind her. He was still a ways back, not forcing himself in her space this morning. Not wanting to stuff things up?

"Right then," he said briskly, and she almost turned around at the return of his normal tone of voice. "Seem to have lost my lighter. Figured it was here somewhere-abouts."

Buffy's eyelashes flickered; she was grateful to be turned away where he couldn't have seen it. His lighter. The one she had found when she'd been collecting all the mystical / magical things around the house in an attempt to make the withdrawal easier on Willow. The one Buffy had intended to throw away with all the rest of it all the way up to the point when she'd taken it out of that box and put it into her pocket.

That lighter.

"Haven't seen it."

"Uh _huh_."

He didn't believe her, but that was okay, especially if he continued to enforce his silent keeping-his-distance rule. She should have been so lucky.

"What is this?"

"What?" Unfortunately, Buffy couldn't deliver such a 'What?' without turning around to at least attempt to face him. And that was the first mistake.

Spike had shown a great deal of consideration to what Buffy was worried that her friends' reactions would be. But, without Xander, or Willow, or Dawn, or even Tara to act as barriers, Spike took the four steps it took so that he was standing directly in front of Buffy. And she let him. She was already giving in again before his fingers properly made contact with the side of her neck.

"Such soft skin..." he murmured, before leaning in and letting his lips trace the same line that his hands had just made.

When the doorbell rung, Buffy jumped. Spike groaned as Buffy's twitch caused her to run straight into his abdomen.

"Sorry!" she cried.

He had never bitten her before; often threatened, but never delivered. She'd been under the thrall of Dracula when he'd bitten her, and it had been in the attempt to save Angel's life when he'd done it. Buffy shied away from her thoughts that said she wasn't completely adverse to finding out what it would be like to have Spike bite her for sexual play.

Spike was still looking disgruntled at her ill-timed and accidental attack of him. Buffy didn't even want to imagine what she looked like. She felt flushed, and shakey, and a little moist. He hadn't mentioned her 'scent' this time, and she wasn't going to give him a chance.

"It's Wednesday! That's the social worker," Buffy said, eyes wide as she ran both hands through her hair.

Her words got a reaction from Spike as well. Though his eyes didn't grow as wide as hers, he glanced back out of the kitchen in the direction of the front door and cleared his throat.

The doorbell rang again.

"Right," he said. Then, "... Shouldn't one of us go answer that?"

Buffy made a small sound in the back of her throat. Her eyes were a little panicked, but now it was the remembrance of exactly the power that this person from social services had over her. And Dawn. And Dawn's arm which was currently in a sling.

Before she managed to get herself all hyperventilate-y, Spike's hand was touching hers.

"It's alright, luv. I'll go answer the door. You come when you're ready."

Buffy didn't think that was a good idea for a second, but by the time she got the message to her legs that she wanted them to move, things sounded like they were under control in the living room. By the time she arrived there, Spike was sitting on one of the chairs, Doris Kroger from social services was sitting on the couch. Dimly, Buffy had noticed Spike's jacket hanging on the door to the under the stairs cupboard as she'd passed it. Now, Spike was sitting comfortably on the couch, not all spread out and crude as was sometimes his want, but straight backed and with his ankle over his other knee. The brown shirt that had been undone half the way down his chest was now buttoned all but to the top.

"Oh, Miss Summers. William and I were just discussing Dawn's attendance at school. It is normal that, after a death in the family, a child's grades and attendance might dip. I was wondering what steps you and William were taking to try to get her back on board again."

William. William the Bloody? No. William the poet, otherwise known as William the man who was quite at home in civilised English aristocracy once upon a time. And Buffy... Buffy was just a vampire slayer who had no idea what kind of steps she was taking to try to get Dawn back on board again.

But Spike, or _William_ , was already starting to lay out those steps.

Buffy sat down on the spare chair beside Spike, taking in what was being said between Spike and Doris while her head spun a little bit. If Giles had been here, this would have been exactly the shoes she would have been expecting him to fill. Except...

It was different with Spike. Watching him speaking to Doris, she realised for the first time that he _could_ do this. There had been a reason why the rest of the Scoobies had decided that he was trustworthy enough to look after Dawn while she was still, well, dead. What Buffy didn't quite understand was why that commraderie didn't continue after Buffy was out of the grave.

Doris eventually got up to leave, shaking first William's hand, and then Buffy's. She knew that she had had some few things to add to the conversation though, for the life of her, she wasn't currently able to summon what.

"I don't think you've got anything to worry about, Miss Summers. I'll be writing up my report this afternoon, and you'll hear back from me in the next week."

Buffy waved absently as Doris exited the house, walking across the street to get into her car.

She turned around the see Spike standing there, looking not a small amount of smug.

"Surprised?" he asked her.

 _Yes,_ she thought. "No," she realised. Buffy walked away from the now closed front door in a little bit of a haze.

"Well," Spike said, clearly trying to play it off as nothing particularly special. "You said to look after the little bit, and I-"

"You definitely delivered."

Spike's eyes shone. Buffy smiled, but it was she who broke eye contact first. She watched as he advanced on her, his black booted feet crossing the floor towards her.

"So... that lighter of mine..."

Stupid, she thought, to have thought he would forget the thing that had first brought him there. Her eyes rose back up to meet his, watching as first his eyes locked onto hers, and then drifted down past her neck, over her breasts, lingering there one hot, smouldering moment, before lowering still to the waist band of her jeans. She thought she would melt right there on the spot, feeling sensuous and delicious over the fact that he would go straight from looking after Dawn and her, to being like _this_ with her again.

Maybe Spike read all of this on her face. Maybe he was just feeling hopeful. Perhaps it was him pushing his luck that had him hook his fingers into both of her front pockets and lean into her. One of his hands found the lighter immediately. The other started pressing around the denim, towards her heated centre.

"Been enjoying the weight of it there, swee'heart?" Spike's eyes flashed as he felt her melting into him. She'd be giving him no trouble now, that was for sure. And nobody else was in the house, well, apart from Willow, but she hardly counted. They'd proven that last night. "I could see the shape of it in your pocket as soon as I walked through that door." He didn't lean away from her to indicate the kitchen door. If anything, he pressed closer against her, emitting a moan from Buffy, unwitting. "Yeah, that's it. You feel me. Hot, and heavy, unable to think about anything other than this while we were talking to that social services lady."

Buffy tried to gasp in a breath, succeeded on the second try, to utter, "You did a good job of hiding it..."

"It's what I do, pet. I hide it, until the moment is just... right..." Here he was stroking her outer labia through the soft fabric of the jeans pocket. Having already pocketed his lighter, he flicked his fingers over the button at the top of her jeans and smirked as that made her gasp. His own eyes were half closed, lips parted; he was far from uneffected from this whole dance. "Then I take all."

The sound of her zip being pushed down seemed alarmingly loud in the kitchen and, if Buffy had still been able to think, she might have worried about that. As it was, her hips buckled, straight into Spike's waiting hand and deft fingers. From there, she was unable to stop herself from gyrating against the vampire's cool fingers. Hearing his dragged in breath only spurred her on, so that she was begging him for more even as she was rising up to the first peak he would bring her to on this occasion.

He disposed of his own button and fly as quickly as he'd done away with hers. This coupling wasn't the slow and steady one they'd had time for the night before in her bed. Buffy needed him now, and was not shy about grabbing what she wanted. Needed. Spike crowed in his head, even as he could feel himself reaching his own peak. She needed him. She'd told him as much the night before and now, today, in her living room with Doris, he'd managed to show her another way she needed him.

Afterwards, once he'd put himself back into his pants, and gently wiped the evidence of sweat and lust from her features, Spike leaned his forehead against her. He thought with loathing of his blanket, still on the floor somewhere in the room, and how he'd have to leave soon. Needed to sleep. Hadn't been able to sleep after he'd left here the first time, but he was pretty sure he'd be able to manage it now. He'd done a good thing here.

He kissed her, feeling her respond to him again, even though the moments of their last passion were only moments behind them. He smirked. He'd done a couple of good things here.

"Pretty soon, luv, you're not going to be able to live without me."

He said it as a parting shot, using it as a springboard to force his hands away from her, his lips away from hers, to turn away and find the blanket before leaving without one last look at her face forcing him to stay.

Buffy touched her lips with her hand, smelling both of them on it, before turning back to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. She knew it. She wasn't sure, in fact, that it hadn't happened already.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events of 'Not Black or White'. Set in season 6, post 'Wrecked'. Will potentially become a big kick ass AU epic. We'll see.

The two of them were patrolling. Nice and normal patrolling. Something that they had done dozens of times together and Buffy had never looked askance at Spike, patrolling.

She'd thought that this plan would help to assert some of the normalcy that had vanished from her life in the last couple of days as Spike had more and more managed to infiltrate all areas of her life. It was almost like that time when Buffy had come home to see Spike chuckling with her mom and Dawn again. The first time she'd come home from work at the Doublemeat Palace (and don't even start her ranting on how much that part of her life sucked) to find Dawn lying half asleep against Spike, and the evidence of the cartoon movie they'd been watching still on the television, Buffy had felt tears well up in her eyes.

Spike had been up off the couch and by her side immediately. Even Dawn had woken up more fully. Despite the fact that she was still not 100% pleased with Buffy, she didn't make any trouble for her on that night, a fact for which Buffy had been immensely grateful. Instead, she'd just said a quiet goodnight to Spike, and quickly gone up the stairs to her bed.

Leaving Spike and Buffy alone.

Much like they were tonight, if one didn't count the vampires who were no doubt lurking and managing to get away cheerfully due to her inattention. She was trying to pay attention, she really was. Instead, she'd just realised that she'd spent the last 15 minutes trying to figure out if it had been this difficult to navigate patrolling with Angel, and with Riley, immediately after they had gotten together. Well, it hadn't been that difficult with Riley, because they hadn't been patrolling together until a while after they'd gotten together, because they hadn't known about each other's secret identities until...

"This isn't working," Buffy said abruptly.

"What isn't working?" Spike's voice seemed distracted. That just made this whole thing worse. How was he able to pay so much attention to slaying when she was barely able to do the same. This was her calling!

"This." Buffy stopped walking, then waited for him to do the same. "This patrolling together. It isn't working."

"Seems to be working alright to me." Spike didn't even flicker an eyelid, didn't even look to her. His sights were on something in the distance, either real or imagined, which made Buffy just feel even more annoyed at herself because she shouldn't have been thinking of distracting him just in case what he was looking at was real, not imagined.

So she just sighed, and redoubled her efforts to get back to the groove of her slaying that she had a powers that be level of responsibility towards.

The thing that Spike was tracking either got out of his point of view, or had simply been imagined. Either way, Spike suddenly turned to face her, and his was not a friendly expression.

"Seemed to be working, until now," he continued, his voice sounding like the very edge of a growl, and that was good. His ire meant that she could be angry too, and with impunity. "What is it this time, slayer?"

"We need to split up. I can't have you here, distracting me, distracting my slaying." Distracting her by calling her 'slayer', something he really hadn't been doing since 'luv', 'pet', and 'sweetheart' had just become much more common endearments that he refused to give up.

Spike's jaw worked, but he kept it under control. Just. His eyes were saying a completely different thing about control, staring as they were as if she were mad. "You saying that just cause you can't help but keep your knickers in a twist, this slaying, this slaying we've been doing together for the last two years, suddenly isn't working out for you?"

Buffy's lips went to a flat line. She went to say, Yes! Or maybe, My knickers are _not_ in a twist, before realising how petty those simple sentences made her sound. She was angry, but she was angry at her own lack of attention, and Spike had more than a hundred years of experience in making such petty complaints sound every bit as petty as they really were.

When she didn't make an immediate reply, Spike let go of all pretence at patrolling completely. Oh, Buffy was sure that he had more than enough awareness for what was directly around them. She did too. But any vampire who decided it was a good idea to approach this vampire slayer while she was in the company of this vampire in this town needed to receive everything that he would get.

That Spike did let go of patrolling made Buffy immediately feel better. It wasn't just her who was stuffing this up. Then again, it wasn't his responsibility to stuff up. He was just along for the ride. And, right now, the look in his eyes boded for a very different kind of ride.

"Stop it," Buffy said, perhaps a little too sharply, definitely only because if he touched her, she knew she hardly stood a chance of saying no.

But Spike was good. At least in that way. He didn't advance any further on her. The two of them instead stood a couple of feet away from each other, both breathing deeply, both now very definitely distracted.

Buffy broke eye contact first, as she almost always did. "What I'm saying is that it makes no sense for us to patrol together. We could patrol twice this amount of space if we were to do it separately."

"This after it was your idea for us to come out patrolling together tonight," Spike murmured, then, before Buffy could get her hackles up too hard about that, continued, "Fine. You go that way." He pointed, then waited for her to make a move in that direction before turning in the opposite direction and making his own way. It wasn't that they hadn't been having a lot of sex. Oh yes, they had. But, right now, it wasn't that sort of aggression he needed to get out.

**

He wasn't at her house when Buffy returned home. The only thing that returned Buffy's call of being home was a half-hearted reply from upstairs in Willow's room. Buffy went up to her bedroom, then promptly tried to hide her own disappointment from herself when she found at that this room, too, was empty of the man she'd hoped to find.

She couldn't be happy when she was with him, she wasn't happy without him. What did she want?

Sitting on the bed for a couple of hours that night, with only her own company, Buffy felt no closer to reaching a conclusion for that than when she'd started. Being a teenaged vampire was hard, dating a vampire then, and also killing said vampire, before having him back, before having him leave her for L. A. had all been hard, but at least then she'd felt like she was getting comfort from her friends. Right now, she could barely give comfort to her friends. Willow was hanging on, but that was more to do with Xander's constant support than Buffy's. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

It was as she was lying wide-eyed in bed that she got to thinking, with an almost fond hope, maybe it was the spell that Willow and Tara had wrangled.

Spike didn't stay away from her for long. The next night, cartoon movies and rants with Xander were greeting her as she wandered in the front door. But that was okay. Buffy had gotten to talk to Tara about the spell. The next couple of days and nights, were a relief to her, like someone had taken of a weight from her shoulders that she'd been dragging along behind her since she'd been brought back. These were the most friendly times she could recall recently.

Naturally, Spike was the first one to it. "Anything wrong, pet?"

"No... why?"

"You're smiling more often."

"And that makes you think something's wrong?" Buffy's eyebrow rose.

"No..." Spike shook his head, attempted to rephrase, then decided that it was infinitely more desirable to have a wordless Buffy that he'd incapacitated on her own bed.

At some later point, Spike lifted his head from where he'd been occupied between her legs. His eyebrow quirked and it took a moment for Buffy to both realise he'd stopped, and to focus on him.

"Might want to make that a little quieter, luv," he murmured then. "Unless that secrecy you've been so worried about is no longer a problem."

There was the very slightest lift up at the end of his sentence that made the rest of it clearly a question. Buffy gulped in a breath. Then, stubbornly, she shook her head against her pillow.

Spike just waggled his eyebrows. "Alright, pet. Just making sure."

Minutes later, they were in the same situation again. Spike lifted himself up on his arms, rolling his eyes up her body with amusement, before shifting to a position where he could more easily press the heel of his hand against her mouth. As she bit down, an idea started to hatch in his mind, something that, once thought of, Spike was not inclined to give away.

It had been a long time since he'd been in a meaningful relationship. And, while he guessed that if he asked Buffy what this was that wasn't the answer he was going to get from her, it was meaningful to him. Two people in love, having all kinds of kinky sex, equalled a meaningful relationship as far as he was concerned.

And people who were in a meaningful relationship got each other presents. Traditionally, perhaps, flowers or chocolates would have been appropriate first gifts. But Spike had seen Buffy one too many times after she'd done with slaying for a night. A box of chocolates wouldn't last half an hour with her in that mood, and there'd be no way she'd appreciate the quality of chocolates he'd be likely to spring for her. Flowers were in a similar basket. Buffy was feminine. She was all that was female and sexy and woman and Spike wasn't about to forget it. But flowers for his slayer? He could think of much more appropriate gifts for the young woman he had come to love.

That was how he found himself standing in the sex shop. It was one of those lovely shops that were convenient enough to stay open after dark. He found what he was looking for almost immediately. After that, it was just about finding the right time to give her this gift.

It started with the end of her shift at Doublemeat Palace. Buffy walked out of that as if she was worn, and slightly queasy from the burger they made her eat for her dinner there. Spike watched her from the shadows as she brushed fingers through her hair, frowning in her own disgust. Spike had to agree with her there. He'd smelled garlic cloves that were more pleasant than the scent that fast food place put out. Yet, underneath was still the persistent scent of woman, of Buffy, of _mine_.

He moved towards her almost quicker than her eye could track. Almost. That was the good thing with 'dating' a slayer. No one else had been able to keep up with him. Drusilla had been different and, to be honest, Spike didn't like comparing her to Buffy anymore than he liked to imagine her comparing him to other men who had been in her life previously (*cough* Captain Forehead *cough*).

She was ready by the time she turned around to face him, that slayer instinct to kill only just curbing and turning around to accepting him as his body hit hers and ground her up against a tree at the edge of the woods. He enjoying the moans she made with such abandon while there was no one out there to hear, knowing that she'd soon enjoy the present he had waiting for her in his crypt.

"Spike... I..."

"Shh. Don't speak." Spike only separated from her far enough that she could see the meaningful look in his eyes, even as his hips continued to press against hers so she couldn't pull away from the tree without a fight. Not that they didn't still fight but, as he continued to maintain eye contact with her, he watched as her willingness to object warred with and lost against her willingness to submit. He would never have been able to overpower her on her own, and he knew it. Victory skimmed across his skin and made him tingle with it. "Come," he told her, and if his voice was no longer quite a steady growl, Buffy did him the courtesy of pretending not to notice as he leaned back so she could finally pull away from the tree, at his leave.

She walked ahead of him, always in the direction of his crypt, always being directed by him. When she would, every so often, glance behind her shoulder to make sure he was still there, he would turn her eyes forward again with a short, sharp order. It didn't take her long until she knew where she was going. There wasn't a lot of Sunnydale that they hadn't patrolled together numerous times, and none of it that was near his crypt.

There was a final querying look in her eye as they reached the door, but Spike was feeling calm, calmer perhaps than any other time he'd been with her. "Inside," he told her, then silently relished in it when she did.

She'd applauded his decorating choices before now, made light-hearted comments about his choice about this or that. Spike noticed that she wasn't making any comments this time, either light-hearted or otherwise. The smile Spike had growing on his lips had an edge of the cruelty of Spike the Bloody who had first come to Sunnydale. But, though the thoughts in his head were dark, there was none of the intent to break her that had so filled his thoughts upon first coming here.

The sound of his closing up the crypt behind him resounded loudly through the concrete space and, as if they had gone through this scenario before, Buffy knew exactly that she was not supposed to ask anything.

"On the bed." There was a definite growl to his voice this time, and Spike doubted that he was going to be rid of that growl for the rest of the night he had her in here. There was a stand next to his bed and under it was where he was keeping her gift.

His cock throbbed when he saw how willing she was to get on his bed, how eager. He was unbuttoning himself and trying to readjust himself to a more comfortable position even before he joined her. Taking his lead, she started to do the same, until Spike lifted his chin and stopped her movement. His eyes traced down her body. He could already smell her arousal, and it increased as his eyes remained, for a while, on her breasts. Then they moved down.

"You can take off your pants," he said, deliberately not taking his eyes off the fingers that only hesitated a moment before doing exactly what he said. They both knew her well enough to know that, at that moment, had he looked back up to her eyes, she would have rebelled and ruined the whole scene for both of them.

His mouth dried out as Buffy lifted her hips off of his bed to move her pants from them. Legs like silk were revealed underneath, and his pants were in a puddle around his ankles until he stepped out of them and took her lips savagely, only prepared to move long enough to grab the tank she was wearing and drag it over her head.

"Your... your top," she said, eyes glazed with desire, and Spike tipped his head to the side, cupping her cheek indulgently, for the question had been hinted in the tone. Just for that, he stripped himself of his last remaining article of clothing and covered her on the bed.

Before long, the same moans that had caused him to rethink what he was doing to her in a house that also housed Red and the Little Bit rose up. For a while, Spike enjoyed that music, soaking it all in that despite all her protests up till this point, he knew where she lived, and he came to return there, again, and again, and again, and...

Reaching over to the side of the bed, Spike brought out his gift. Confusion wavered in Buffy's eyes as the gift showed itself not to be the perhaps expected condom, which a human lover would have needed to reach for at a time like this, but a ballgag.

"What is that?" Buffy asked; the sight of the gag seeming to break the spell and return the slayer, Buffy, to the kind of self that they both knew better.

"You know what this is," Spike replied silkily.

"Yes..." Buffy responded. "But why is it here?"

To answer that, Spike just grinned his very knowing, very cocky grin.

"You think you're going to put that on me?" Distrust flashed across her face. It was followed by curiosity, by an expression that dampened curiosity, then by lust as the fingers of his free hand found their way back into the heat that was between her legs.

Spike smirked. "You got a better plan for how we keep you quiet, luv?"

Buffy opened her mouth to argue again, but Spike pulled back and allowed her to see the darkness that rode just under the surface with him. It was a chance, very chancey in a moment like this. It was also very, _very_ telling when she let that darkness subdue her.

"How does..." Buffy's voice was small. She was looking at the gag above looking him in the eye again. She also had to stop, and clear her throat before she could get the rest of that sentence out. "How does it work?"

Spike's chuckle was husky, and he watched as it had the effect of causing goosebumps to rise over certain parts of her skin.

 _Trust. This is_ trust _she is giving me,_ he realises, allowing his focus to shift only for a moment back to that conversation where she'd told him she'd never do that. It was only a few weeks ago.

Far more distracting than a few weeks ago is right now, and Buffy lying naked, and fully visible, on his bed, in his crypt. He even has enough confidence, by this point, to suspect by this point that she's not going to toss some hurtful slander his way before rushing her way out of his place as soon as they're done.

He takes his time building her up. Doesn't want her to get bored of him, after all. Pretty soon, her head is thrashing against his pillows and broken moans are escaping her lips as a combination of tongue, fingers and the very tip of his cock drives her wild. Nope, definitely not getting bored of him.

"Lift up." His voice isn't any louder than it needs to be in this crypt, and Buffy hears it immediately, even if it does take her a moment to respond.

She is breathing heavily when she first lifts her head up. Spike makes sure that she's gotten plenty of air before he cuts off one of the ways for her to drag air in. She needs air, not a vampire, and Spike's not about to forget it.

The ballgag works a treat, Buffy seems to be enjoying herself, and Spike's very proud of himself for having thought of it. Only after she unsuccessfully screams her way through a third or fourth orgasm does Spike reach around to take it off, his own pleasure well spent a couple of orgasms ago.

His voice is deep, and husky, when he speaks to her again. "Good pet. That was gorgeous."

Her hair is a bit bunched up where the gag's been held around her head, and Spike's tender ministrations work to smooth it down almost immediately. She's on the journey back down to relaxing her muscles after having had them been tensed for so long. Spike's arm goes around her, readying them both for some much needed sleep, yet also subtly demonstrating his possession of her, and it isn't lost on him how she curls up into his arms long before she is close enough to sleep to later call it unconscious movement.


	3. Chapter 3

The little Bit was watching him as opposed to watching the cartoons she'd put on the telly for them to watch tonight. He didn't look down at her as he made the comment, "I don't blame you if you don't want to watch another night of this but, if you didn't, why did you put it on?"

Dawn was still looking at him strangely, and it meant that Spike had to look down at her in return. They were alone in the house tonight. Willow had gone venturing out with Xander. She'd been all a-flutter about leaving the little one with him, until Xander had said, "Don't sweat it, Will. He's here with her every night."

Spike had been pleasantly surprised by the vote of confidence, all the more so that it had come from such an unexpected avenue. He'd known better than to give it any evidence, though. One look from Spike and Xander would have swallowed those words with a witty come back that would have undone the good he'd managed with reassuring Red.

So that meant everyone else was out of the house when Dawn asked her little question.

"What's going on with you and Buffy?"

Little question, my ass, thought Spike. It was an answer that he hadn't even managed to wrangle out of the kid's big sister, and Dawn wanted it answered from him? He was about to say as much when the little Bit straightened herself on the couch, crossed her legs, and turned to face him.

"I'm not a kid, Spike. It's pretty obvious that something's happening. Are you in love with her?"

Spike's eyes widened as he received this inquisition from a mini-commander. His eyes lowered onto his hands that were sitting uselessly around his lap. "Why don't you ask Buffy, luv?"

"Because I want to hear it from you." Dawn's face was stern for a sixteen year old. "She's been hurt a lot in the past..."

"She's not the only one..."

"And I want to know that you're not planning on hurting her too."

Underneath the sternness, Spike thought he detected the concern that was really lying behind this set of questions. A master of turning the tables, Spike thought he'd do nothing less with the younger Miss Summers. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because I like you, Spike. And... you're good for her. You make her happy. And I wouldn't like to see you not coming around here anymore."

After this statement, the two of them were both staring down at hands sitting uselessly in their laps. Spike didn't get a chance to answer that one. Before he had a chance, the cavalry was home.

Spike had assumed it was Willow with Xander that were back because he'd heard a male voice. A second later, his sense of smell told him that that wasn't the scent he could smell, nor was the voice Xander's.

Buffy walked into the living room and, behind her, Riley. Spike had had time to stand up but no time to move away. Dawn was still sitting on the couch, but she'd turned to face the front door as soon as she'd heard it opening.

"Buffy!" Dawn sounded flustered, every bit as flustered as Spike felt but, because she was the one to open her mouth to speak first, all attention went to the little Bit. Spike was given time to compose himself as the kid blanched. "Riley..."

Old country boy looked a little disappointed at such a lack-lustre response from Dawn. That made Spike feel a little bit better. "Thought you might be happier to see me," said Riley.

"Oh I'm just..." Dawn looked between Buffy and Spike. "Tired," she finished abruptly. It would have been the obvious next move to excuse herself off to bed, especially considering it was somewhere up near 11pm. But Dawn wasn't going anywhere.

"Spike..." Buffy said, and it was obvious that, with the return of her lost love, she'd forgotten that Spike would be sitting in her living room when she brought lover boy home. Obvious to Spike, anyway.

"Not to worry, Slayer. I was just leaving," Spike said with formality. He was already putting on his jacket and avoiding all eye contact with the Misses Summers.

"No, Spike..." Dawn was glaring daggers at big sis, but Spike wasn't in the mood for sticking around. Already, as he was hitting the kitchen, he overheard more than he wanted to.

"You leave him alone to baby-sit Dawn?" That was Riley, making no effort to hide his shock, or the volume of his voice.

"No... I.. I thought Willow would be here." That was Buffy.

The loud snort that followed that was definitely Spike. Also from Spike was the steeling of his jaw, clamping down on emotions, complete and utter denial that there was anything moist gumming up his eyes. A couple of demons were about to meet with exceptionally savage deaths before he came home to his crypt for the night.

*

"You thought Willow would be here. Well, that's a bit better. Still, it's not like her to be so irresponsible as to leave Dawn either."

Buffy turned away from the slamming back door that had signalled Spike's hasty escape from her house. She'd been excited when Riley turned up during her patrol. When she thought back on it now, that seemed to be odd given their particular situation on parting. But it was the fact that she was happily with Spike that meant Riley's return didn't have the opportunity to hurt her, or dredge up old memories. Instead, on seeing him, she had felt the stir of all the good memories that had been between them. She had been genuinely interested in the battles that he'd gone into since she'd last seen him, the different experiences that he'd been blessed with.

It had been that conversation that had overflowed past her usual patrolling, a conversation that had continued even as she had let instinct lead her back to her house. It hadn't even occurred to her that things would be awkward when she came home. It wasn't that she'd forgotten Spike would likely be there. More that nothing had been strained from the moment Riley walked up to her to when past and present realities had clashed in her living room.

"A lot has changed since you were last here," Buffy said. There might have been less chill that entered her tone had she not been feeling she had to make up for the words she'd said while Spike had seen been here, as well as defending the Spike who was now absent.

Riley scoffed, a little. "So, Spike is a trustworthy citizen now? I know you always had a soft side for him, Buffy..."

"It's not really any of your business," Buffy said, successfully cutting him off.

Riley opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to come to terms with that. "I still care about your wellbeing. Dawn's too. And if that monster is allowed..."

"He's not a monster." This time Buffy's tone was deadly serious. There was no escaping the look in her eyes, or the intention behind the words.

Slowly, Riley blinked. He wasn't a dumb man. "I see." His voice was just as dark. His movements became very stiff after that. "I'm here again on business, Buffy. Let's hope for both our sakes that Spike isn't the... _man_ behind the business I'm here to clean up."

With that, he turned on his heel awkwardly, pulled open the front door, and stalked back out the way he'd come.

Buffy wasn't even still facing him before the door closed shut behind him. Dawn was waiting by the door in the kitchen looking approving. "You should go after him," she said.

Buffy didn't question for a second that they both knew it was Spike that they were talking about.

"I will," she said, with some distraction. Now that the passion of anger at Riley was leaving her, she didn't know what to make of the anger that was likely going to meet her when she located Spike. Unlike Riley's reactions, Spike's were well-founded.

She looked at her little sister. Dawn's eyes were clear.

"You know, don't you?"

"I know that something's happening between you and Spike." It was the closest the two of them had come to a sisterly, or even friendly, conversation since Willow had crashed the car with Dawn in it. Buffy had thought that Dawn was angry at her because Buffy hadn't seen what was going on with Willow because she was too wrapped up in Spike. Now the tone Dawn spoke in allowed her to think it was actually because Buffy was keeping Dawn closed out that Dawn was doing the same in return.

Buffy pulled out a chair in the kitchen and invited Dawn to sit with her.

"I love him," she said softly, still afraid of what would happen when this simple statement became common knowledge among the Scoobies. "I know he's not a good man but... he's good to me."

"He is a good man, Buffy." Dawn's voice was soft, but her face held nothing but acceptance. "Look how hard he tries. And he's always trying. Maybe he hasn't always been a good man, but he is now. Right now? I think he's hurting quite a lot cause you don't believe that."

Buffy nodded. She needed to make amends. That knowledge was warring with the elation in her heart that her sister knew what was going on in her life... and didn't judge her for it. Her heart shone because what she was doing with Spike was alright.

She stood up and wrapped Dawn up in her arms in a hug that Dawn actually returned. "I love you," she said seriously. "Are you going to be okay by yourself until Willow and Xander get home? They are coming home tonight... right?"

The look Dawn gave her just told her to get out of the kitchen, right the hell now.

*

He'd been rehearsing this in his head for about the last hour so, when Buffy came into his crypt, it was just as if he'd stormed back to her house and the conversation was in full swing.

"You can't just push me around. You won't. I'm not just some convenience to you." His eyes glittered with his fury. Perhaps, if she gave him just the smallest incentive, conversation wasn't going to be the only thing in full swing between them.

"I know." Instead of fighting, it was these two words spoken in Buffy's soft tones that answered his anger.

Spike's eyes flashed again. "You know? You know?!" Spike asked, looking for the hidden meaning he knew lay somewhere in that statement. She treated him like he was dumb, like he was dirt, but he had years of study and intelligence on her. She'd never even finished college so he'd be damned if she treated him like he was some dumb--

"I do," Buffy said, and for a moment Spike was too stuck in the thoughts he'd been having to understand what she was truly saying. The slow way of her movements from the door of the crypt towards him grabbed his attention. He could have rushed her. Could have told her that she was no longer welcome in this place and to _get out_. He didn't. And so she kept coming. Kept talking. "I made a mistake. I was off-guard. I responded badly."

" _Yeah_ you bloody well did!" Spike roared back. But she didn't flinch. And he didn't feel much like punching her anymore either. He stood back, staring at her warily. She had stopped moving towards him, probably sensing something of his mood. "So... what does this mean, then?"

"It means that I made sure Riley understood how things are between us."

Spike's head jerked, but Buffy didn't extrapolate. "And that is...?"

Buffy didn't answer his question directly. Instead, she said, "Did you know Dawn knew about us?"

Spike's eyebrows lifted. "She said as much this evening." The eyebrows drooped. "You know. Which means... What did you say to her?" He didn't need to breathe, and so he held his breath, hardly knowing what kind of reaction Buffy's finding out about kid sis knowing was going to receive.

"I said I loved you. Which you already knew." She looked at him almost shyly underneath her lashes at that. Still, Spike didn't exhale, didn't resume breathing, didn't dare hope. She'd been crueller than this to him before. "I said it didn't make sense, because you weren't a good man..." Their eyes met then. Something about Buffy's choosing to pause there made Spike not interject. "She told me in no uncertain terms how wrong I was about that. And she's right. If I had just talked to my friends about this in the first place, they might have told me this then. I've hurt you, and I've hurt you... just as much as I've been hurting, and you never deserved that. I'm sor--"

Spike cut her off then, having decided that there was enough good in her words that could cause him to hope, that could cause him to pounce her, and breathe, and do things to her that would stop her from breathing. She had told Dawn, and Dawn had convinced her that everything was okay. After that, Spike didn't even think Xander could say anything that would turn Buffy away. Only he and Buffy could ruin things now. And he was about to make completely damned sure that she wasn't thinking any thoughts that might lead to self-sabotage for the rest of the night.

*

"Are you always going to request we go to places with ridiculously large shakes?"

Tara was looking daunted, but Dawn was grinning into her shake. Buffy hadn't come home last night, and a very stern Dawn had met Willow and Xander at the bottom of the stairs when they had returned. If they were Buffy's friends, they were not going to make things difficult for her, regardless of what they thought of Buffy's decisions about certain things.

Regardless of their worry and curiosity, nothing they could say would make Dawn speak beyond that. It was Buffy's secret to tell when she came to it in her own time.

But she'd overheard a conversation between Buffy and Tara that made Tara the perfect person for Dawn to talk to about her older sister's new romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and, for those who are wondering? Spike is not the 'Doctor' that Riley is looking for in this little version of the universe.
> 
> Thanks ;)


End file.
